Avery lifted his head and snarled, blood at the corner of his mouth. “You don’t know who I work for.”
“No one that scares me,” Callum said coldly. “But the people you answer to? They’re going to have a real hard time pulling you out of this one when the human sheriff reports a violent shifter incident on record. And when the Paranormal Police hears what you’ve been doing on neutral ground…”
He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. Avery paled. For the first time, he looked truly afraid. I turned toward Rafael, heart hammering, and that’s when it hit me.
This was really over. Not postponed. Not delayed.Over.My knees buckled from the adrenaline crash, and Rafael was beside me in a flash, catching me as I sank into the gravel.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped, voice raw with fear and fury.
“I—I couldn’t let anyone else get hurt,” I said, the words catching in my throat.
His arms tightened around me. “You are someone. Someone who matters. To me.”
That undid me. Not the violence, not the threats. That. I pressed my face to his neck, sobbing quietly as he held me against his heartbeat.
Sirens wailed in the distance. The sheriff closing in fast.
Chapter 19
Rafael
The Paranormal Policeshowed up late that afternoon. They arrived in two sleek black SUVs.
No license plates, no identifiers, just rows of shimmering enchantments laced into the metal. Wards strong enough to make the fur on the back of my neck rise.
You never wanted to see them. Not even when you needed them. But this time, we did.
I’d spent the morning pacing in the bakery like a caged animal, waiting for the moment they’d arrive.
James had spent the night at my place after we’d made sure Avery and his crew were locked up tight. Neither of us had slept much.
Now that they were here, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tear their throats out or hand them coffee and thank them for finally showing up.
“Rafael Kingsley?” the taller one asked, flipping a thin ID folder open.
His name was Agent Corwin. His shorter and serious partner with fey eyes too pale to be natural was Agent Walker.
Both were dressed in tailored black suits that didn’t belong anywhere near a small-town shifter bakery.
“We’d like to speak with you and James Monroe. Separate interviews,” Agent Corwin said.
My bear growled low in my chest, but I forced it back. “Why?”
“Procedure,” Agent Walker said coolly. “It won’t take long. We just need to confirm your version of events before we process Mr. Avery and his associates.”
“And if we say no?” I asked.
“Then your lead alpha can take it up with our Director,” Corwin replied, voice clipped. “But you won’t like the outcome.”
James was sitting on the bench near the back door, a paper cup of lukewarm coffee in his hands. He looked pale under the bruises, tired in a way that hadn’t lifted since the alley.
The moment they mentioned separate interviews, I felt him tense. I crossed the distance between us in two strides.
“You don’t have to talk to them,” I told him.
“I do,” James said softly. He looked up at me, eyes shadowed. “I want this over with. Officially.”
I clenched my jaw, but nodded.
